


how deep is the ocean?

by kenobic



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, alternative universe, marine biologist!maia and forensic pathologist!isabelle, the shadow world doesn't exist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 18:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenobic/pseuds/kenobic
Summary: "We won't stop running into each other, won't we?"Isabelle and Maia meet almost by miracle and assume they'll never see each other again. But they do. A lot.Inspired bythis post.





	how deep is the ocean?

**i.**

“You know, it’s impolite not to answer when someone’s talking to you.”

Studying to be a forensic pathologist was already hard enough without having to deal with a guy trying to hit on you. Isabelle was grabbing the book’s cover with such force that her knuckles were white, but she sighed, trying not to make a scene. The whole situation must’ve been looking tremendously funny from the outside, she thought, because who on Earth tries to hit on someone in a library? But, obviously, she wasn’t on the outside. She was the one that had to deal with this. She didn’t even want to look at the guy’s face, so she decided to stare at the summer rain through the windows.

“It’s impolite to insist when someone tells you they’re not interested.”

“But that’s what girls always say.” He smirked, the kind of smirk that would’ve looked attractive in other contexts, but made her want to punch the guy in the face in this one. “You know, to play hard to get.”

“Too sad that’s not the case, right?” That was a voice she had never heard before, and she felt a leather-covered arm embracing her shoulders even before she could realize what was going on. She looked up as unnoticeably as she could, and she found a smiley black girl standing right beside her, with a bunch of books firmly gripped by her left hand. The smirk on the guy’s face transformed almost magically in a scowl of pure discontent. “Are you planning on leaving that seat any sooner?” she added.

“And who are _you_ , her girlfriend?”

“Yes.” Oh, well, she’d gotten a girlfriend out of nowhere. Not that she was going to complain, of course.

“That’s not even true! You—you don’t even know her!” A few people turned around to tell him to shut up, and the only thing the unknown girl did was to shrug. “You’re annoying people, so…” She raised her hand from Izzy’s shoulder to make a vague gesture, _leave._

The guy ended up leaving a few minutes later, and Isabelle, for the first time in months, maybe years, didn’t know what to say. On one hand, she was grateful, but on the other, this girl had left her with the feeling that she hadn’t been able to defend herself. That she’d been useless, that she couldn’t deal with her problems without help. So she opted for the easy way out: “Thank you”. Now that she could look at her freely, she smiled at herself for having been her fake girlfriend for a few minutes; this girl was quite beautiful, she thought. Her dark curls framed her face perfectly, and she was wearing this pretty black shirt of a band Isabelle had never heard of before. “He’d been staring creepily at you for a while now, so, uh, I figured it’d be only a matter of time until he’d start bothering you.” She took the seat the guy had left empty behind him, and those words made images materialize in Isabelle’s memory: the same white, light haired boy waving a hand at her while sitting a few tables away from her, or leaning on a pillar and staring at her from a distance. Though in those moments she hadn’t really cared, she realized the meaning of them now. She opened her mouth to say something in return, but the girl had already opened one of the heavy books she’d been carrying and was absorbed by it. Izzy gave the text a fugitive look, trying to guess what the girl was reading, and some pictures of what looked like algae caught her attention. If the girl noticed what she was doing, she gave no sign of it, so Isabelle was forced to mind her own business.

She whispered a goodbye and waved her hand at the girl reading about the sea when she left, and the girl waved back.

 

**ii.**

Working with Magnus was quite an experience, lacking other expressions to accurately describe it. Especially since Alec had waited for Izzy outside the police station to go and have lunch together. Weird as it was, working gave her a peace she could find almost nowhere, and Magnus added the humor it needed.

“Are you almost done?” he asked while putting gloves on.

She smiled. “Patience is a virtue, my dear.”

“Speaking of, how’s Alexander?”

“He’s fine.” She smiled; there was no way she had not seen it coming. She made a gesture for Magnus to come nearer her, without taking her eyes off the body they had in front of themselves. “It’s decomposing,” she added. “You know, it’s quite hard to know if he’s interested,” he said, “I mean, I can’t see why he wouldn’t be…” With the corner of her eye, she saw him take a scalpel and start examining the body.

“Well, we both know he isn’t exactly warm, right?” she made a pause and then added, “I’ll go report my preliminary findings, I guess you’ll manage to have everything under control in here.” Magnus smiled, in a way that said how can you doubt me?

She came out of the room, found a computer and started typing as fast as she could. As soon as it was printed, she started walking through the hallways looking for Luke… And when she did, she noticed that he was having an enthusiastic conversation with a girl, standing beside his desk. Isabelle stood near, waiting, but the conversation didn’t seem to be ending anytime soon and her ears started itching with awkwardness. She came a little closer, and called, “Luke.” She handed him out the printed paper; the girl had also turned around to see who’d spoken. And it was the same girl she’d met a few days ago at the library. They both didn’t know what to say: they’d had expected their encounter to be a one-time thing, a little gesture of kindness and nothing else; to never see each other again. But at the same time, it had been kind of a thing that you don’t easily forget. “Isabelle, this is Maia,” Luke spoke before any of them said a thing. “Isabelle works here as a forensic pathologist, and Maia…”

“We’re kind of family,” she explained.

“I’m an intern, actually,” Izzy fixed. “And we kind of have already met before.” They both smiled a little because of the memory. Luke raised his eyebrows. “I think Maia--” she felt a weird happiness derived from finally knowing what her name was-- “can tell you that story, I gotta go back to work.”

And they waved goodbye for the second time.

 

**iii.**

“Oh my god, Alec,” she protested, though keeping a smile on her face, “we’re already here, okay? You can’t go back now.”

“Uh, I can—” but the door to Magnus’s place opened before he could say anything else. They entered; the place was wide and full of people that, save for Magnus, neither Isabelle nor Alec had ever met. But Alec had little to worry about that, because Magnus grabbed him lightly by the arm and took him away from the crowd.

The first thought that flashed through Izzy’s mind was that the house owner had quite a lot of money; more than the Lightwoods, and that was to say. The atmosphere was more of a meeting than a party, and people were talking in small groups with drinks in their hands. Magnus had even hired a group of people to bartend, where… of course, there she was, with a white shirt and a black bowtie. She _had_ to be where Isabelle least expected her. She approached, “We won’t stop running into each other, won’t we?”

“I had my doubts before, but now I’m almost positive we won’t.” Maia smiled. “I didn’t expect you, you know any of these people?”

Isabelle quickly shook her head. “No one besides Magnus and my big brother over there,” she explained, pointing towards their direction. “Though I didn’t expect you here either.”

“Well, I’ve got a talent and Magnus appreciates it,” Maia said half-joking, “You want anything?”

“Uh, red wine is good.”

“Red wine is boring. It matches your dress, though, so you win.” She served a glass of it and gave it to Isabelle.

“How you know Magnus, though?”

“I bartend at the Hunter’s Moon,” she explained, “you know, uh, it’s a bar…” she spoke slowly; she’d started and now didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah, I’ve been there a few times,” was Isabelle’s answer. And that was it, they’d run out of things to say. Her cheeks had started to itch with nervousness, and that made her smile even though there was no reason to do so. Maia murmured something and went to serve other people, but Isabelle just stayed where she was; having given the room another wide look, she knew that was the best place she could be: Magnus had already caught Alec’s full interest, and without them, the only person she could be with was Maia. There also were the other people that made the room so crowded, but she wasn’t sure she’d want to get to know them. They all looked as extravagant as Magnus was, and she didn’t want to deal with it, even if she was thinking with pure prejudice.

“Uh, Maia?” she’d found out something, she was mentally high-fiving herself. The girl she had referred to made an affirmation sound behind her, and Isabelle turned around to face her. “Do you know if Luke was planning on coming?”

“Obviously not.” She smiled; Isabelle didn’t know if Maia knew she already knew the answer to that question, and had only asked to talk to her. “I think Magnus invited him, they’re kinda close. But we both know he’d never come. I mean, can you imagine?” she laughed; her laugh was brief, kind of melodic, and quite contagious.

 

That night, they waved goodbye for the third time. But this time, they exchanged phone numbers. Because, as Maia had said, “We should hang out sometime, don’t you think?”

 

**iv.**

Trying to hang out with Maia was way more complicated than they’d both thought. They were hardly available, and it was kind of frustrating. Isabelle didn’t ask and Maia had said that “she’d explain when they meet again”. She hoped she had a good explanation, how could bartending take so much time?

But patience was a virtue Isabelle thought she had, and almost a month had to pass before they could finally arrange something. A text appeared on the screen of Izzy’s phone: _there’s an open mic at the hunter’s moon this Saturday at like, 10pm. (i don't know why you look like you'd be interested in that kind of things)._ Another one: _my shift ends at around that time so maybe you wanna come???_

Isabelle didn’t generally smile at her phone; she was good at keeping her emotions to herself instead of looking kind of dumb smiling at a screen. But obviously, there are exceptions to every rule.

She was at the Hunter’s Moons’ door at 09.59 on Saturday. “This can’t be right”, she thought as she was walking around the block to not be way too punctual, and she stopped at the door again when she thought she’d made enough time. It was 10.03, but, oh, well. There was nothing she could do. There was a big, colorful sign at the door that stated, “Open Mic Tonight! At 10.00pm” with some sketched microphones and mouths around the words. She thought she could recognize Clary’s handwriting. She entered the bar, where reigned a calm, almost warm atmosphere. There was soft music playing in the background and, over it, a lot of people holding different conversations. Quite a lot of people were there, all in their seats in front of a small stage with a microphone. Being at the back, she could recognize Clary’s red hair, and guessed she was seated next to Jace and Simon, but she couldn’t find Maia until she went up the stage.

“Uh…” Everyone stopped talking at her sight, which made her smile. “Hi, I’m Maia…” some people’s drunk voices said ‘hi, Maia’ in return. “I have the list of speakers here—” she raised a notebook— “so if anyone wants me to put them on the list, I’ll be sitting over…” she gave the room a wide look and, after seeing Isabelle, she pointed at where she was with a vague hand gesture. “… There. I think you already know the deal but, in case someone doesn’t, you just get up here and do whatever you want. Read a quote from a book you like, a poem, sing a song, stare at the crowd in silence…” Some people laughed at that last sentence, and Isabelle drew a smile on her face. Maia shrugged and went to sit with her.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing she said instead of ‘hi’. “It’s just… It’s been crazy, I had to study a lot…”

“It’s okay,” Isabelle nodded a little bit to reinforce her words. “What are you majoring in? We didn’t talk about that, the last time we saw each other.”

“Oh, we… didn’t?” She seemed surprised, as if she had a habit to talk about her major with everyone. “Marine biology,” she answered. “So, yeah, the bartending is more like a temporary thing…” Some people approached and asked Maia to include them in the list, and she did, with a calligraphy so messy she was the only one she could understand. Later, Isabelle would realize that she wasn’t writing their names but distinct physical traits so she’d be able to call them later and indicate them to take the stage (obviously, no one would have a name as long as ‘weird guy with blue hair’ or ‘drunk blond with green day tshirt’).

Then, Clary came closer. “Can you include Simon on that list? You know, we want him to sing but he’s not cooperating…”

“So you’re forcing him.” Maia finished the sentence for her.

“Yeah, basically.”

“I like that attitude.” She smirked and wrote down ‘Simon’.

When everyone had left them alone, Maia had lost the thread of what she was saying. Isabelle looked up: there was a guy reading an extract from _Les Misérables_ , and his French pronunciation was so perfect that it made her jealous. She opened her mouth to make a dumb comment about it, but changed her mind mid-sentence: “You know, he’s… Uh, you were saying.”

She laughed. “I was saying he’s what?”

Isabelle blushed a little, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “I meant, you were saying something. About bartending being temporary? And marine biology? Before they came over.” She made a gesture, pointing towards the boys that had interrupted them.

“Oh. Yeah. I wasn’t thinking about bartending my whole life, I don’t wanna stand drunk people for the rest of my days… And I’ve always liked the sea, so… Marine biology. The dream is to transfer to the Columbia program, but…” she made a gesture that said, I don’t know, let’s not talk about that. “How’s forensic pathology, though? Isn’t it kinda disgusting?”

Isabelle laughed. “Well, not to me, but obviously that’s what I do, so I don’t know if my point of view counts.”

“It does, though, it’s you I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s just…” she had to stop herself, and shrugged. “I can’t describe it in a way that doesn’t sound morbid, to be honest. It’s interesting, and it kinda gives me some peace. But it’s not for everyone, I guess.”

Maia nodded. “The peace thing sounds morbid.” They both laughed.

Isabelle had never been to an open mic before, and didn’t know if this would count as a first time, considering she’d listened more to Maia’s words than to those spoken on stage. She still caught some excerpts from poems, and some people had even sung some nice things. But when Simon got on stage, she thought it would be only fair if she shut up and listened. Well, even if she’d wanted to keep talking, Maia clearly didn’t: her full attention was on him now. Clary had had to push him a little, and he had accepted his faith at the end. It was good, the song was calm and overall beautiful: he knew how to play the guitar well and had a nice voice. At first, Isabelle thought that the song wouldn’t sound good if he was nervous, but singing, apparently, gave him the same peace work gave Izzy. And he could transmit that peace, too: everyone in the room but him was in silence, and Maia’s eyes had enlightened. I wish I could make someone’s eyes enlighten like that, Isabelle thought.

 

“I had a great time,” Isabelle said when both of them were alone in the darkness. They both smiled, almost in unison. “I’d never been to something like this, but you were right saying I’d be into it.”

“Well, I’m… happy I was right.”

“Also…, you and Simon?” Isabelle hit her lightly with her elbow.

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“There’s _nothing_ going on between me and Simon.”

Isabelle raised one of her eyebrows.

“Why would I lie to you?” Maia was still smiling, and that made Izzy happy: she didn’t want her to get mad at her for a thing as lame as that. “Really! We just met, I owe nothing to you, why would I lie?”

“’s okay. Just… you know, if you want something, just go for it. If you never take a chance, you’ll regret it.” They both stayed in silence for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, as it had been when they’d met at Magnus’s. That awkwardness had vanished. “You want me to walk you home?”

“No. No, thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” the smile hadn’t gone away. “Sure.”

They waved goodbye for the fourth time.

 

**v.**

Months had passed and that encounter hadn’t been the only one. It had become a sort of habit to pass by the Hunter’s Moon not to have a drink, but to say hi and have a nice conversation with Maia. The more Isabelle thought about it the more she was convinced of the weirdness of it all, especially because of the way they’d first met; it had been an almost fictional thread of coincidences. But she was grateful it’d happened, and she was almost sure Maia thought the same thing.

And that day was one of those habitual days. She headed to the bar behind which Maia was standing, and sat. She smiled at the bartender, and couldn’t help but notice that there was something wrong: she wasn’t smiling, her eyes weren’t as bright. She wanted to say hi, but instead “Is everything okay?” came out of her mouth.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” was her answer. Izzy didn’t believe her, but didn’t push it either; she’d speak as soon as she’d want to. “I mean, you didn’t come here to listen to all of my problems.”

“No, but, you know, I know it’s none of my business, but if you want someone to talk to…”

Maia nodded. “Thank you.” Though she didn’t say anything else.

They stayed in silence for a while so long that Izzy pulled a book out of her bag and started reading. (For fun, obviously, she didn’t want her brain to melt all of the sudden.) She could’ve easily gone to her place and read there, but she felt there was an implicit message in what she was doing: I’m still here. Even if we’re not having a conversation or you’re not paying attention to me, I’m still here. She didn’t know if Maia would catch it, but it was worth a try.

She heard Maia’s voice long minutes later. “You know, the bar is kind of a messy place for that, unless your goal is to have _1984_ coated in beer.” When Izzy looked up, she was smiling, but that kind of smile made only with the lower part of your face. Her eyes were still sad. “You can sit at one of those tables over there.” She pointed towards them, and Isabelle did as she was told without arguing.

The night became darker as each minute passed, and people went in and out of the bar. She still didn’t move from where she was sitting; at moments she feared she was being way too annoying and that she should just go and try another day; she even pictured herself getting up and leaving the place in her mind, but she couldn’t get her limbs moving.

She didn’t know how much had passed until she felt a presence. An hour? An hour and a half? But she looked up and Maia was there. “May I?” She said, pointing with her head to the seat in front of Isabelle. She nodded and Maia seated, pulling out a book of her own. “I’ve never read Jane Eyre,” Izzy said, and regretted her words immediately afterward. What the fuck did she care? “It’s good,” she answered. “All those shitty movie adaptations don’t do it justice, though.”

They weren’t speaking nor looking at each other, but they still were together, weirdly accompanying each other.

They stayed like that, in silence, for at least half an hour, until Maia closed her book. “You know…” when she heard her voice, Isabelle closed her book, too, and raised her eyebrows so she would continue. “… I’m going through a moment when… You know when you have a bad memory, and you can live for a while, like, ignoring it? Pretending it never happened? Or just, I don’t know, you can just go through life without thinking about it? But then it suddenly comes back to you and you can’t get it out of your mind, it’s everything you can think about?”

“Yeah, I… yeah.” She had some of those on her mind.

“Well, that’s what’s going on. Sometime I’ll tell you about it,” she added, “it’s just not a good time right now.”

 

This time, Maia let Isabelle walk her to her place. They walked through the city in silence.

“Thank you,” Maia said when they’d gotten there. “For, you know, just… being there.”

“’s okay.”

They had run out of things to say again. Isabelle’s heart had started to beat faster and she hadn’t noticed. And then Maia leaned over and kissed her. All of her muscles unclenched. That was it, what she’d been waiting for, that thing she’d wanted but didn’t know what it was. And she finally understood that something else gave her peace outside of work; not a thing, not a place, but a person. They turned away. Isabelle remembered that time when they’d heard Simon singing, how Maia’s eyes had enlightened. They had that same bright right now.

“If you want something, you gotta go for it, right?”

And they kissed goodbye for the first time.

 

**(vii. also known as ‘the cute scene you came here for’)**

Silence was all that could be heard in that room. The blinds had been effortlessly shut, so strips of light could enter anyway. On the bed were two dark silhouettes: one of them was laying, and the other one was half-seated.

Maia looked at her partner, trying to move as little as she could. The sheets were warm against her naked skin. She couldn’t see what time the clock across the room marked, but she could guess it was pretty late at night. Maybe three, four o’clock in the morning? It’s not that she really wanted to know anyway; knowing for a fact that she was having trouble sleeping would only stress her out.

Izzy slept with her back to the ceiling, and hid her arms under the pillow. Maia thought that nights were the few moments where she didn’t have makeup on. She wasn’t going to say something stupid on the lines of Isabelle being _so much_ beautiful without makeup on, or how she’d better stop wearing it; her being bare-faced wasn’t better nor worse, just… different. Unusual. She opened her mouth, didn’t say a word and shut it. She wasn’t sure it was the right time… No, she was sure it wasn’t. But she didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t speak, now that she wanted to; maybe the will would never come again. “Izzy, are you awake?” She moved and grunted lightly. She also had light sleep.

“I am now,” she said; her voice was soft and she spoke slowly, as if she had forgotten the language while she was sleeping and had to re-learn it all of the sudden.

“Sorry.” It was fine. She could wait until tomorrow morning. But Isabelle cut the silence some minutes later. “Nah, girl, you already woke me up. Now you’re gonna talk, ‘kay?”

“What?”

“You woke me up ‘cause you wanna tell me something.” She still hadn’t opened her eyes.

“Maybe I was just checking.”

“You just gave yourself away.”

Maia laughed a bit, the kind of laugh that comes out almost without a sound.

“It’s just…” She stopped herself again. She’d just ruin the atmosphere. She didn’t know if it was worth it. And also she had so many thoughts in her head, she didn’t know how to put them in order. A ‘mmhm?’ came out of Izzy’s lips. “Remember that time when… you know, the first time we kissed?”

“You think I’d forget?”

“You remember that I was feeling kind of… sad? Because I had something that I kept going over in my mind?” Izzy made an affirmation sound again. “It’s just that it’s been years since I’ve spoken to either of my parents. You know, my brother died. And he was the favorite, he always was. So without him, I felt kinda… forgotten. And I ran away.”

She could hear Isabelle turning, but she didn’t look at her. She felt the back of her ears itching, and she embraced herself a little; she didn’t want to know what that girl thought of her now. But she ended up looking at her at the end, and in her eyes was… something like pity. And that was the feeling she exactly had wanted to avoid; she didn’t want pity, she wanted… Understanding? Even if those two feelings weren’t mutually exclusive and she couldn’t control other people’s feelings. Isabelle took her hand. Now she was fully awake.

“Do you want to speak to them again?”

Maia thought about it. “Yes. It’s just—I feel way too guilty. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to look at them in their eyes again.”

“They’ll forgive you,” she said without a doubt. “They’ll be angry at you at first, I guess, but they’ll forgive you.”

They stayed in silence for a long while, with their fingers entangled.

“What about you, though?” Maia spoke again.

“My parents?”

“Yeah.”

Isabelle sighed and lay her head upon Maia’s shoulder. “Well, uh… It’s kinda complicated. I mean, my mom expects nothing but perfection. Or at least she used to. She’s much calmer now,” she explained. “And my dad… He was my favorite of the two. He used to be the person I could always come back to, you know? When I was upset, or sad, or just wanted to talk to someone and Alec wasn’t around… He was. But he cheated on my mom. So I—I don’t know. I felt like I couldn’t trust him anymore, that it was a lie, all of it.”

Maia didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t going to go with an ‘I didn’t know’ because obviously she didn’t. But apparently, she didn’t need to, because Izzy kept talking regardless. Between the two of them, she was the one that did the talking. “But I have my brothers. You know, Alec, Max, and Jace.”

“Jace?”

“Yeah. His parents died, so mine adopted him. I think he was the favorite.” Maia didn’t understand where that comment had come from, but then she remembered her own words. “Or maybe Alec. But I definitely wasn’t.” She laughed a little.

“I fucked Jace.” That sentence came out of her lips almost automatically, without thinking, even before Maia could stop herself from saying it.

“You—wait, what?” Isabelle rearranged herself on the bed. The moonlight that filtered through the blinds showed Maia that she wasn’t angry; she was smiling, actually. But that tone hadn’t been anger, just surprise. She didn’t know why she’d thought Isabelle would be angry at that fact, but she was happy she wasn’t.

“Yeah.” Maia laughed with relief. “It was fun, nothing else, but…”

“You know, I’ve never been with a girl before.” _That_ was surprising. Maia raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She was so… confident. So beautiful. The kind of beautiful you expect to have people waiting in line to be with her. She opened her mouth, but, again, Isabelle was faster. “I mean I _knew_ there was… something. Going on. But, for example, with you… I felt like we were just good friends. Like, really good friends?” Her smile widened. “Until we kissed. And, you know that feeling when you’re in class, and you understand nothing, but then something, like, unlocks? And you’re like… _oh, now I get it._ Yeah. That was the feeling.”

“So I’m special,” Maia said.

But it wasn’t until weeks, maybe months later, that she understood that Isabelle would think of her as special even if she’d been with three hundred girls before her.


End file.
